


The Wanderers

by Queenofthedragonsharks



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Comrades in Arms, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, Hanzo and McCree are idiots who can't spit out their feelings, M/M, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, i love these boys
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-22
Updated: 2016-12-22
Packaged: 2018-09-11 03:09:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8951584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queenofthedragonsharks/pseuds/Queenofthedragonsharks
Summary: Jesse McCree and Hanzo Shimada make a damn good team. But Jesse McCree realizes he may be falling for his closed off traveling companion, and how do you deal with that?Inspired by the new holiday comic, this was initially just a oneshot because I didn't want my boys to be alone on Christmas. So of course it turned into a whole thing. Please tell me what you think, and come visit me on tumblr at http://belovedblabber.tumblr.com/





	1. Seasons greetings

            His mama would be disgusted if she knew he was spending Christmas in a bar. Course, he figured she’d be right disgusted with a lot of the things he’d done. His glass was half empty, and he told himself that the night would feel better once he saw the bottom of it. He’d been saying that since he finished the first drink. The woman at the far end of the counter was still watching him closely over the rim of her own cup, lips slightly quirked. He raised his glass to her in a shaky salute, tried to say something but felt his words stumble in his mouth. The woman snorted and looked out the window, colorful hair catching the light. Nice talk. The bartender eyed him like he was thinking about starting trouble, but went back to polishing the glasses with a sigh. The flickering lights reflected off his cup, and he felt his eyes getting heavier. Hell…

            _Ana Amari was laughing as he fell on his ass for the third time in a row._

_“Little cowboy, you’ll have to do better than that.”_

_She offered him a calloused hand, gave him his hat from where it had fallen._

_“What has Gabriel been teaching you hmm?”_

_“Figure he’s been teaching me how to get my ass beat by you  ma’am”_

_When she laughed it reached her eyes and sent them sparking._

_“Don’t tell him that.”_

A long finger carefully tapping the top of his head slowly dragged him out of his dream and back into the less appealing present. It took another few seconds for him to drag his eyes open. Hanzo was standing with one brow slightly raised, holding Jesse’s hat in the hand that wasn’t preoccupied poking his head. Jesse sat up with a groan, trying to push his hair out of his eyes.

            “It is an interesting time to sleep cowboy.”

            “It’s night ain’t it?” He smiled at his companion, stopped himself from staring, just like always. They’d been traveling together about two months now, and he still got caught up in looking at Hanzo Shimada. They didn’t make a likely pair, but they made a good one. Two men on the run from various demons, demons neither of them were quite ready to share with the other. Though he figured he knew more than a bit about Hanzo’s. He’d known the man’s brother after all, the one Hanzo'd tried to kill. Funny how these things worked out.

            “A bar is not the customary place to spend Christmas Eve.”

            “Really? Seems fine to me.” He glanced around the bar. The woman was gone. Hanzo sighed, lifting the flap of his bag to show a neatly tied box.

            “I got us something to eat.” He cast keen eyes around the interior, nose wrinkling slightly. “Elsewhere.”

            “Well ain’t he prissy tonight…comes from being a fancy rich boy.”

            “Or from common sense in this case. You can stay here if you wish McCree, but I’m sure you’ll just be tossed out in a few hours.” The other man turned and strode away in his brisk measured pace, the picture of elegance. Jesse sighed before standing up and following him. Two months and the man had yet to call him by his given first name. It was either cowboy or McCree as far as Shimada was concerned.

            “I’m comin.” He had to quicken his pace to catch up with Hanzo, who never seemed to slow past a brisk speed walk. “Damn Shimada, can’t you give me a break here? We’re not all as fit as you.”

            “Hmm.”

Jesse forced his eyes away from Hanzos ass, glancing at the bright lights and flurries of snow. He had to suppress a shiver.

            “Damn, it’s cold as a witches tit out here. Good thing you decided to bundle up instead of running around with your nipple out.”

Hanzo said nothing, but Jesse thought he heard him snort and counted it as a victory. It was still damn hard to read the man.

            “So Shimada, what’s in the box?”

            “It is a pastry.”

            “Really? Hardly nutritional.”

            “But festive.”

            “Did y’all celebrate Christmas?”

They navigated through a group of red-cheeked children dashing past. Hanzo glanced back briefly.

            “There are not many Christians in Japan, but the sentiment of the holiday is appreciated. It is customary to eat a special cake on Christmas eve.  That is what’s in the box.”

Jesse whistled slightly, shrugged his shoulders to keep warm.

            “Well that’s a spot of luck. And mighty sweet of ya too.”

            “I was hungry.”

            “Right.”

They walked in not uncomfortable silence under twisting ribbons of bright lights. By the time they reached the back alley vacant house they were squatting in, he was fairly sure his nose was about to freeze off.

            The interior of their temporary shelter was dark, damp, and smelled like mildew. Their meager belongings were shoved in one corner, along with two worn sleeping bags and a small electric lamp. Hanzo switched it on and sat down, pulling out the now battered box. Jesse huffed.

            “Don’t see how this is any better than the bar…at least the bar had heat.”

            “It smelled like old vomit and poor life choices.”

            “And this here smells like mildew and mouse piss, so I’d say it’s about even.”

Hanzo ignored him and opened the box, carefully cutting two small slices and setting them on their flimsy camping plates. Jesse joined him with a sigh, accepting the plate.

            “It’s real pretty. Thanks Hanzo.”

The other man nodded took a delicate bite. Everything he did was elegant and precise, down to eating. McCree tried to push the thought away. The sugary frosting made a good start at getting the taste of bourbon out of his mouth. He’d eaten it in three bites. Hanzo eyed his plate, lip quirking briefly.

            “Do you want more cowboy?”

            “That would be mighty fine yeah.”

            “Heh, mighty fine.” Hanzo handed him another piece. “Your words make English even worse.”

            “That’s cold Shimada.”

            “Hmm.”

Jesse tried not to stare as the other man ate. The longer they traveled together, the more he found himself getting caught up in Hanzo Shimada. Firstly, his eyes were the prettiest dang thing he’d ever seen. And then there was the way he moved, and his smooth voice…and he was a good shot, hell, the best. Jesse’d seen him put an arrow between a mans eyes from the side of a moving train. Then there were those damn piercings, and that hair. He hadn’t had those when they first met, and Jesse’d damn near lost his mind when he showed up sporting them one day. Two months in and they’d yet to move beyond a personable business like arrangement. He knew he had no chance of ever landing someone like Hanzo, but he’d like to at least call the man a friend. They had enough in common, and hell, they both knew Genji. Although it had become abundantly clear almost immediately that Genji was not a topic of conversation Hanzo was willing to engage in. So here they were, squatting in shitholes together and sharing Christmas Eve, and he still couldn’t read the man worth a damn. Not his emotions anyway. He read him just fine in a tussle. They worked well together, maybe that would have to be enough.

            “Are you alright cowboy?” Hanzo had one eyebrow raised, fork poised with a piece of cake on the edge. Jesse had to bite his lip to keep himself from blushing.

            “Yeah, just thinking is all.”

            “Of course. Did you celebrate Christmas?”

            “Huh?” The question caught him off guard, and he had to realign his train of thought. “Oh, yeah, y’know…my mama and I would when she was alive. It was a big deal for her family back in Mexico when she was little, y’know? We’d always do a little something. After she passed, it mostly had a bitter taste.” He wanted to say something about the small celebrations in the deadlock gang, stopped. “Course in Overwatch it was a big deal too. All Holiday’s were. Gabe was really into Halloween and-“ He trialed off. He tried not to talk about Overwatch for his own sake, and Hanzo always seemed discomforted when the name was mentioned. Jesse cleared his throat. “Anyway, yeah I used to celebrate. Not so much anymore.”

            “Well, this is a celebration isn’t it?”

Jesse smiled.

            “I suppose it is.

Outside the rundown house the streets were slowly being carpeted in snow. A young woman with colorful hair and glowing implants leaned in a corner of a busy street, tapping out a message with ease, not bothering to look up at the stragglers passing by. The scene was peaceful if you didn’t know any better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that's our short first chapter. Just wanted to get it out there. Future chapters are going to be longer. Thinking chapter two may be how these two first met up. Please tell me what you think:)  
> Also sorry for weird formatting. Trying to fix it


	2. Meet Cute

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A prequel chapter showing how our boys first met. Naturally it wasn't exactly peaceful

    The sun was beating down on his back, and Jesse was fairly sure he’d melt in a few minutes here. Add in the humidity and he was beginning to think he hated Florida. He was laying low in some small ex-tourist town somewhere in the ass end of the sunshine state, and the way things were going he was starting to wonder why anybody ever came here to relax. A dilapidated shack advertised itself as the Gator’s Bite Bar, and he figured it couldn’t be worse in there than it was out here.

   Twenty minutes later he had come to the conclusion that it could, in fact, be worse. The walls were plastered with various peeling tourist posters and dilapidated stuffed alligator heads, the air conditioner seemed to actually be letting out hot air, and even the counter was sticky with heat. Plus the drinks were shit. The bell over the door gave a small ring, and he looked up half hoping that whoever was coming into the otherwise empty bar was half interesting. To his surprise he wasn’t disappointed.

The man who’d stepped out of the muggy heat was more than a tad handsome, dark hair held back to frame a regal face, keen dark eyes perched atop a sharp nose. Jesse wasn’t entirely sure what the man was wearing, but he was pretty sure he liked it. Took a bold man to walk around with one nipple out. And then there was that tattoo… 

He realized he was staring when the man raised a perfect eyebrow, lips pursed. Shit.

He turned back to his watered down drink and tried his best not to notice the newcomer. He heard the man say something to the bartender in a soft accented voice. A moment later he sat carefully a few stools down, eyeing the space in distaste. Jesse decided he didn’t have much to lose in his current situation. He spun his barstool to face the man and tried for his best charming smile.

    “Howdy. What brings a nice fella like you to this here town?”

The man seemed slightly taken aback, almost insulted. He took a delicate sip of his drink and cleared his throat.

    “I am here on business.”

Jesse waited for him to continue, tried to fill the silence when he didn’t.

    “Well, sorry for you in that case. Ain’t the prettiest place. This whole state has a weird feel to it, y’know? Kinda reminds me of an old broken down carnival with the music still half playing, what with all those old attractions and what not... It’s right spooky in all honesty. Why I’d say-“

    “Are you just talking to fill the silence, or is there a point to all of this?” The man was eying his hat and serape, lips pursed.

    “Oh, well I uh, just tryin' to be friendly. It’s real quiet in this town, figured a man might like some company.” He held out his flesh hand, trying to smile. “But where are my manners? The name’s Jesse McCree. What’s yours?”

    “McCree…” The man sounded out the name thoughtfully. “Why are you dressed like a cowboy?”

Jesse sat back, beginning to feel more than a bit put out.

    “Ain’t dressed as nothing. Why are you walking around with half your chest hanging out in the breeze?”

    “For practical reasons.”

    “Sureee, of course. You ain’t much of a charmer are ya?”

    “Not when I feel my time is being wasted.”

Fine, he wanted to play it that way, Jesse figured he’d just cut his losses and finish his drink.

    “Well I won’t bother you no more. Nice bow th-“

The bell on the door rung again, and Jesse turned to see if the newcomer might be more pleasant than his current company.

    “Jesse McCree?”

The woman in the doorway was tall and muscular, one eye covered by a digital visor. And she knew his name, which was never a good sign.

    “No idea who that is ma’am The Name’s John…Abbington…”

    “Right.” The gun she pulled out was a fine piece of work, and it was pointed directly at his head. “You can either come with me nicely or get shot right through that handsome face. Either way, I get paid.”

He pushed down the fear in the pit of his stomach and tried to smile.

    “Well, you got me fair en square darlin'.” Peacekeeper was a heavy presence on his hip. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the other man move ever so slightly. Jesse moved his hand by inches towards peacekeeper, keeping his eyes on the woman.

    “Don’t even think about it handsome. Put both your hands where I can see em.”

    “Listen, I’m sure we can work something out. Neither of us wants this to get nasty.”

The woman sighed, cocked her gun.

    “Well, I suppose bringing you in dead or maimed will have to do.”

It was a mighty fine gun. He realized that might be the last thought he had.

There was a whistle in the air behind his head, and something grazed his ear. A moment later what looked for the entire world like a damn arrow cleanly pinned the woman’s arm to the wall, knocking her gun to the floor.

    “It’s rude to start trouble in a place of business.” The mysterious Stranger was standing with that fancy bow raised, hand poised on his quiver. Jesse realized his mouth was hanging open just about at the same time he noticed the shadows outside the window.

    “Get down!” He threw himself into the man, hurling them both behind the counter just as the glass of the window exploded out in a shattering crash.

    “What do you think you’re doing?” The man’s eyes were sharp, hand already pulling out another arrow.

    “Saving you ass!”

    “I thought that’s what I was doing for you.”

Jesse drew peacekeeper and peeked over the counter, only to be met with several gun shots. There were at least six more people in the bar now, and the woman was freeing herself from the wall. The case of liquor exploded above their heads, showering them with shards of glass.

    “Well now we’re even!”

    “Why are they chasing you? For all I know you deserve this.”

    “Little late to be asking questions partner!”

He leaned over the counter lightening fast and fired three rounds into the group; saw one of the figures crumple.

    “You have anything other than that fancy bow?”

    “I don’t need it.”

    “Yeah, cause arrows work so well in close quarters.”

The man ignored him sprung up and fired an arrow into the crowd. Jesse saw it scatter, bouncing off the walls and generally causing a panic. The man crouched down next to him again, glancing briefly at the terrified bartender.

    “I would say that’s of much greater use than you tiny pistol.”

    “My pistol works just fine sweetheart.” Three more rounds, each hitting their mark. There were four people left standing. “See?” He smiled at the man, who pursed his lips.

    “Lucky shots.”

The woman’s voice cut across the chaos, sharp with annoyance.

    “Shit, was that Hanzo Shimada? Looks like two for one if you could all get your heads out of your asses!”

Jesse whipped his head around to stare at his companion.

    “Shimada? I knew a Shimada!”

    “It is a common name. Can we focus on the people trying to kill us?”

    “Yeah but I knew a Genji Shimada who mentioned a brother called Hanzo, and from what I heard he was pretty handy with a bow.”

The man, Hanzo, froze, mask of calm suddenly crumbling.

    “It doesn’t matter if we both die cowboy!”

    “Aw come on. There’s only-“ He paused, fired another shot into the chest of a man who was getting uncomfortably close. “Three left!”

Hanzo fired another shot, dropped back down.

    “One left now. It’s the first one who was about to shoot you.”

Jesse tried not to be impressed, glanced over the counter.

    “Hey friend, maybe you wanna lay down that gun now?”

The woman wiped a smear of blood from her nose, eyes slit.

    “I don’t think I-“

Thwunk

Hanzo’s arrow lodged itself in the woman’s throat almost elegantly.

    “Hell Shimada coulda given her a chance.”

    “She wouldn’t have taken it.” He slumped down next to Jesse, grabbing a bottle from where it lay on the floor and taking a long swig. “Your American alcohol is horrible.”

    “Shit…I didn’t think anyone was gonna find me here.” he ran a hand over his face, leaning back against the bar.

    “Maybe you should be less conspicuous.”

    “Maybe you should.”

    “Fair enough.” Hanzo handed him the bottle, and Jesse took a long drink, ignoring the dust on the rim.

    “So, you’re Hanzo Shimada. Small world”

    “Yes.”

    “If I remember rightly, you’re the reason Genji has to let out his heat through exhaust fans.”

Hanzo shot him a withering glare, looked away.

    “That a sore spot?”

    “I am not proud of it.”

    “Figure I should dislike ya for that. I always liked Genji.”

    “And yet you’re being civil.”

He took another drink, sighing and staring at the slowly spinning ceiling fan.

    “Well, I don’t think highly of ya for that particular act…but here’s the thing: From what I heard, your family had some pretty shitty policies. A man could almost feel bad for ya. Genji certainly did, eventually.” He handed the bottle back to Hanzo. “And it’s not like my past is squeaky clean either, I figure that gives us something in common…I know those people wanted both of us dead. And hey, you saved my life, that has to count for something.”

    “I suppose it does. It seems you may have saved mine as well.”

    “Aw hell, those guys were amateurs. We probably woulda been fine.”

   “Probably.” Hanzo glanced at the bartender, still cowering on the floor. “We should give that man a good tip.”

   “Well, you got any cash?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So hope y'all enjoyed. Again, sorry it's so short, it's been a crazy day. I used to live in Florida, and it's a truly odd place. Wanted to have the fight take place in some weird old landmark, but ended up going for your classic bar shootout. Sorry for lack of double spacing. Ao3 is still making my formatting life rather difficult. Please tell me what you think, and come say hi to me on tumblr at http://belovedblabber.tumblr.com/

**Author's Note:**

> So that's our short first chapter. Just wanted to get it out there. Future chapters are going to be longer. Thinking chapter two may be how these two first met up. Please tell me what you think:)  
> Also sorry for weird formatting. Trying to fix it


End file.
